It remained, then, only to deal with the matter of the shuttle. And that, like all else, he would do through certain men in Chi Hsing's own household. They knew not who they dealt with, only that such dealings made them rich. Let them attempt to cover his traces. And if they failed?
Wang Sau-leyan got up and walked back through to his dead father's bedroom, too excited now to sleep. If they failed to clear Chi Hsing's name it mattered little. The Seven would be Five. And with Li Yuan gone . . .
He laughed, then went briskly to the window and drew back the curtains. Outside it was dark, the moon low in the sky. It would be morning in two hours. He held his hands out before him, palms open, and looked down at them. Such smooth, white hands. For a long time he held them there, staring at them, then closed them slowly, smiling to himself.
Let them make their accusations. He, Wang Sau-leyan, would have clean hands.
He turned from the window, picturing himself there, in council, facing the angry faces of Tsu Ma and Wu Shih, his own anger tightly harnessed. "You do me wrong," he heard himself say. "I knew nothing of this."
It was the truth. He laughed, delighted. Yes, for once it was almost the truth.
LI YUAN lay THERE in the darkened room, grieving, the hurt a vast weight, pressing down on his chest, crushing him; a dark and heavy millstone, beneath which he lay, helpless. To move was an effort, each hard-won breath a betrayal. They were dead.
In a moment of stillness, of unthinking nullity, someone crept into the room and knelt beside him. It was Tsu Ma. He felt the older man's hand at his neck, in the dark hair there; felt a wetness on his brow, then the softest pressure of his cheek against his own. Eyes closed, he held the other man tightly, letting the smothered grief escape. Then, when the pain of it seemed to have lessened, he felt Tsu Ma move back and release him. He sat, feeling hollow, staring sightlessly into the shadows.
"This much loss . . ."
Tsu Ma did not complete his words. Li Yuan turned his head slowly, facing him. There was such a pressure in his upper chest, such a need to say something, yet nothing came. He coughed, almost choking, then bent his head suddenly, succumbing to the sharpness of the feeling.
At the far end of the room the door slowly opened.
"Chieh Hsia . . . ?"
Tsu Ma turned his head, then stood and went across. "Yes," he said quietly. "What is it?"
There was a brief whispered exchange, then Tsu Ma came back. "Yuan ... if you would go through and wash your face. General Rheinhardt is here. He has news."
Li Yuan stood slowly. In the light from the open door he could see Tsu Ma's face clearly; see the redness of the eyes, the wetness of his cheeks. "Rheinhardt?" he said hoarsely. "I thought no one knew. . ."
He frowned, and looked past Tsu Ma, toward the servant in the doorway. If Rheinhardt knew they were here, it meant their security was breached. Only Tseng-li had known.
Tsu Ma reached out and took his arm. "Freshen up, cousin. Then come to my study."
Li Yuan looked at him steadily, then shook his head. "No. I shall come as I am. Tears are no cause for shame."
They went through, servants and guards looking down, not daring to look. All knew how things stood. The rumor had gone out around the palace an hour back. Even so, they could not help but notice how Li Yuan bore himself. Such dignity in grief. Such strength.
In Tsu Ma's study, Wu Shih came to him and held him a moment before leaving. Then, with a nod to his private secretary, Tsu Ma also left the room. The secretary gave a deep bow, then went to the far door and opened it, letting Rheinhardt into the room. "I shall be here if you need me, Chieh Hsia," he said, bowing again, then left, closing the door behind him.
Li Yuan was alone in the room with his General.
"Who told you I was here, Helmut?"
"It was Tseng-li, Chieh Hsia."
Li Yuan was silent a moment, puzzled. Rheinhardt was unarmed, but he still suspected a trap—some kind of trickery. "When did he tell you this?"
"Less than an hour back, Chieh Hsia."
Li Yuan shivered. Haven't you heard? he almost said, then realized that Rheinhardt would have heard all, before even he had been told. He started forward. "What do you mean?"
"Just that I spoke to him, Chieh Hsia. He told me where you were. It was . . ." The General hesitated, venturing a smile. "It was a great relief to me, my Lord."
At once he understood. "You thought me dead?"
"The whole world thinks you dead."
"And Tseng-li?" Li Yuan took a step closer, his face caught between doubt and hope.
"He is alive, Chieh Hsia. As is Kuei Jen."
Li Yuan laughed, openly astonished. "Kuei Jen? Alive?"
"A scoutship picked them up. Their craft was damaged, but they were unharmed."
"Their ship?"
"A little maintenance craft. It survived the explosion. But they were lucky. It seemed like just another piece of debris. Only a visual contact saved them."
But Li Yuan was barely listening. He crossed the room quidkly and stood over Tsu Ma's desk, studying the controls. Then, impatiently, he turned to Rheinhardt. "Where are they now? How can I contact them?"
The General came across and punched in the access code, then stepped back, away from the desk, leaving Li Yuan alone, looking down into the screen.
A soldier's face appeared and, with a quick bow, turned and called someone forward. It was clear that they had been waiting for this moment.
"Tseng-li!" said Li Yuan joyfully, as the familiar face came onto the screen. "How are you?"
Tseng-li bowed, smiling, his eyes wet. "We are alive, Highness."
"And my son? Where is my son?"
Another soldier brought Kuei Jen and handed him to Tseng-li, who turned back to face the screen, cradling the sleeping child. The movement disturbed Kuei Jen. He stretched and began to cry, one arm struggling against Tseng-li's neck briefly before he quieted and grew still again.
"Kuei!" Li Yuan called softly, tears of joy rolling down his cheeks. "My little Kuei. . ."
Tseng-li was silent a moment, strong emotions crossing and re-crossing his face. Regaining control, he spoke again.
"They were Yu, Highness. I heard them. But the craft. . ." He hesitated, then said it. "It was Chi Hsing's shuttle. His Security codes."
Li Yuan straightened up, a shudder passing through him. He had gone cold. "You are certain, Tseng-li?"
"Your guards were thorough, Highness, but they were betrayed."
Li Yuan moaned. His momentary relief at finding them alive had masked all else from him. Yet his wives were still dead, his palace destroyed. And now, he found, Chi Hsing had betrayed him.
"Not Wang Sau-leyan, then?" He said the words quietly, shivering, a sudden bitter hatred replacing the grief and happiness.
"I have no reason. . ." began Tseng-li, then stopped, seeing the look on Li Yuan's face. "Li Yuan, I..."
"Do your brothers know you live?" Li Yuan asked suddenly, changing the subject.
"They . . . No, they do not know yet, Highness."
"Then I will let them know myself. I would not have them grieve while you live."
Tseng-li opened his mouth, then bowed, understanding. ,
"And Tseng-li..."
He looked up again, meeting Li Yuan's eyes across the distance. "Yes, Highness?"
"I do not know how you managed it, but my debt to you is great. Whatever you want, you shall have it."
Tseng-li smiled bitterly. "There is but one thing I want now, cousin Yuan. I want him dead."
"Who? Chi Hsing?"
The bitter smile remained. "Not him. The other one . . ."
"Ah yes . . ." Li Yuan took a deep breath. "Yes. And I too."